


Street Hockey or What Happens on Hockey Nets

by limitlessskyes



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, filthy sex, slight bloodplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-19 22:50:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1487032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/limitlessskyes/pseuds/limitlessskyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marian challenges Peter to a game of street hockey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Street Hockey or What Happens on Hockey Nets

**Author's Note:**

> So I started writing this about five years ago, and I just finished it. Peter is the younger brother of Tomas Kopecky, and this is based off a friend and I's universe.

The thing Peter Kopecky never realized was how hard it was to stay balanced on a street hockey net, even if it was flipped to the back side, while someone was fucking you. Or how hard it was to keep your hands on the bar instead of on that someone, who just happened to be Marian Hossa. He had caught just a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye, but then Marian had done that thing that always wipes his mind clean and makes his eyes roll back and he'd lost track of the fact that he'd even seen it.

It had all started when Marian had challenged him to a little one-on-one in the driveway out back, and well, there was no way he was going to turn that down. He knew he was severely outmatched -- it was Marian Hossa, for God's sake -- but he was going to try his hardest. Even if it meant stooping to such levels as taking his shirt off to distract Marian long enough to get the ball they were playing with around him and into the net. One goal was better than none.

What he hadn’t counted on, however, was what Marian would stoop to doing to distract him in turn. Body checks that resulted in hands and fingernails trailing across his stomach, or Marian pressed up behind him, fighting him for the ball, not-so-accidentally dragging his hand over Peter’s crotch. Before Peter could even blink an eye, his breath catching in his throat, the ball was around him and into the net, Marian snickering behind him. 

“That’s not fair!” Peter whined back at him, barely fighting a pout. Marian just snickered more, his hands finding the button of Peter’s pants from behind him, fingers tapping out a light rhythm against the metal. 

“Because stripping to distract me is perfectly legal within the rules of street hockey. Uh huh.” Marian purred against his ear, sending a shiver down Peter’s spine and forced himself to stop the whine that started deep in his throat from escaping when Marian worked his pants open, one hand sliding the zipper down torturously slow, the pressure against him making his head swim already. 

And that’s how they came to be where they found themselves now, with Marian’s mouth latched onto Peter’s shoulder, his hips snapping in a steady rhythm, and Peter fighting to balance himself against the net with one hand while the other hand raked scratches across Marian’s back that were sure to bleed if he wasn’t careful. Marian’s hands were curled under Peter’s thighs, holding him apart but making sure to steady him enough that he wouldn’t fall, a low growl building in his throat at the feeling of Peter’s blunt nails scraping over his shoulder blades. 

“Fuck, Marian…” Peter gasped out, trying to keep his voice down, still mindful of the fact that while they were partially hidden in the backyard, sound would and could travel great distances if he wasn't careful. And while he didn’t particularly care if people knew about he and Marian, it still wasn’t something he necessarily wanted interrupted. Especially when Marian managed to hit his prostate dead on, his body tensing up and causing him to clamp his teeth to Marian’s shoulder to stop the choked off cry from slipping from his mouth. 

“Shit, kid, your teeth are fucking sharp,” was the rough reply, but Peter knew he didn’t care, especially since the press of his hips against his own quickened, his rhythm faltering a little in the process.

Peter could feel that tightening deep in his stomach, that radiated out to the tips of his fingers and toes, his whole body starting to tense up as Marian kept that perfect angle that nailed that magic spot every time, his fingers digging in deeper across Marian’s back. His breath was starting to come in panting gasps, his hips stuttering as he tried to hold the rhythm that Marian was setting. 

“I’m… Fuck, I’m close,” he gasped out as he scrabbled across Marian’s back yet again, dimly aware of the beads of blood that were collecting across the tops of the older man’s shoulder. Leaning forward, he dragged his tongue across the redness, forcing a deep growl from Marian’s throat, fingers tightening over Peter's thighs. A ragged shudder raced along Peter’s spine as he bit down to stifle the cry that was trying to force it’s way free as his body tensed before it felt as if he were shattering, his body tumbling over that edge as he came, shaking as he emptied himself against their stomachs. 

The realization briefly crossed his mind that Marian hadn’t even touched him before the pleasure took back over as he felt Marian’s hips falter again before another growl emanated from the other man as he let go, fingers gripping tightly at Peter’s legs, sure to leave purplish black bruises in the day or so to come. 

Slowly, they both slowed to a stop, their breath intermingling in harsh panting as Peter pressed his mouth to Marian’s briefly. As they pulled apart, Marian chuckled, causing Peter’s eyebrow to raise as he pulled back enough to focus on Marian’s face. 

“You do know that Tomas stepped outside and saw us earlier, right?” 

“...Fuck.” Was the only response Peter could formulate. That was going to be a fun conversation later. 

~


End file.
